


Control

by Lynn_Nexus



Category: Dredd (2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, F/M, Ill save you from me, Rape, Sex Pollen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynn_Nexus/pseuds/Lynn_Nexus
Summary: Dredd wakes up to another dream about Anderson.Why isn't it like his normal dreams about her?
Relationships: Cassandra Anderson/Joseph Dredd
Comments: 21
Kudos: 43





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Take my tags seriously.  
> Noncon is a fer sure in this.  
> 
> 
> OK! All warnings aside, This has been on my computer since about a week after I saw the movie, it's only about half done. goodgirl_astray asked me to post what I had... So I pretty much totally rewrote it... because I'm a lunatic. But seriously guys... the formatting was horrible, and it didn't quite have the right feel... I wanted it to be slightly... squickier. 
> 
> But there is a second half that I want to figure out but... Man I have had 5 pages of absolute -garbage- sitting on the end of this doc and I just don't know if it can be salvaged. I will take -any- suggestions.

_This_ dream again?

That was all that Joseph Dredd could think when he found Anderson under him. Blood thundering through his veins while the tiny little woman was under him. No, not just under him, his hips pressed forward of their own accord. As he'd come to expect from this god damn dream, his only dream that wasn't as regimented as his waking life, the rookie judge was split under him. _Being split by him_.

Her legs were on either side of his hips, both hands held in one of his above her head. Usually she was in a sundress, or a teeshirt far too big for her, one that was clearly his. This time she was in her leathers, which was odd enough. They were unzipped but her issue tee was ripped down the center so her tits bounced with each thrust of his unforgiving hips. He could glimpse her bare legs from the corner of his eyes, her panties in tatters hanging around her left knee.

Well now that he was aware of it, the dream should stop. It usually did once he registered that he was dreaming. But it didn't. He thought about how if it kept up, he was going to have to decontaminate his sheets. Yet the dream persisted. He was slightly bothered that he didn't remember going to sleep, didn't remember the ride back to his apartment on his lawmaster. It _had_ been a long, long shift. The dream was too distracting for him to get too worked up over not remembering the ride home though.

Damn it felt good.

The dream usually was a bit hazier, _especially_ the sensations, but he could feel his leather pants rucked down around his thighs and Anderson's pale flesh pressed against his hips. He could feel the squish of her hip in his hand even though the leather. Usually he was wearing less in this dream, though his helmet was off which was very unusual. If his helmet came off in the dream it was usually the last thing between him and nudity, Dredd didn't feel truly naked until the helmet came off.

Yet, there was Cassandra, straining against his hold, ceramic plates of her armor grinding on the cement below her. So clearly it almost could have been real. A mole on the underside of her tit bounced with his every thrust, winking in and out of sight. It was an odd detail for him to put to her. A weird place to have a little dark mole on such otherwise pale skin. He could feel the strain in his muscles, as if he'd been at this for a while. As if he'd been clamped tight over her, arched and angry. Ok, he was always angry. Even in this stupid dream. His Anderson dream.

It was different every time. Where were they this time? Looks like Perp's domicile. One of the megablocks. Not too unusual. He spent enough time in them that the accurately generic mess he was fucking her on made sense. Their collective armor too. Would have been nice to see her strip the panties off with such fervor she ripped them.

As was usual in the dream, it seemed his thrusting wasn't quite enough to get the dream over with. His hips rolled into her like a piston. His harsh breath against her skin. He wanted to lick that little mole that kept bouncing at him, but his rough face just rested against her collar bone for a moment before he felt his teeth scrape harmlessly across her collar. She gasped then let out a mewling little cry.

“ _Dredd!_ ”

Huh. His mouth worked over her skin, free arm reaching under her back and arching her so he could catch that tit in his mouth. It was odd, her calling him “Dredd” in his head. She usually called him Joe, like they'd been lovers for years. His tongue flicked over her nipple and he could taste her. He could taste her?? Sweat primarily, but skin and grime, like she'd not yet gotten back to shower. Like they were still out, fighting. The sharp salt flavor echoed through his head and made him want more. So, very much more. More than he'd ever allow himself to even dream.

He should cut this dream short... Or maybe actually enjoy it for once in his damn life. If he was going to enjoy it maybe he should slow the unbearable pace his hips set. Yet the pace didn't slow. His teeth met her nipple and she twisted slightly with a gasp. What the... This was really _possessive_. Too possessive, he was controlling her, and this pace couldn't be... She was sort of gritty with sweat and he's not sure if she's actually enjoying this.

He wants her to enjoy this. If this is going to be his fantasy she should be happy. But... She wasn't. She was straining against his hands. He thought to let go of her, to maybe roll over onto his back so she could ride him. Or have her unzip his leathers? Fuck her hands would feel good on his chest right now. If she could just unzip his leathers so he could breath more easily. The sweat is pouring down his back and his hand tightens over hers. A little noise bubbled out of her throat when his hand constricted over her wrists. That was not a happy noise. It sounded pained, sort of like a sob. It took an incredible force of will for him to look up at her face. Even in his dreams he had _some_ control over himself.

His blood froze.

Anderson was crying. Oh this was bad. This was not normal. This wasn't _right_. She should be happy. She was always pleased to wrap her legs around him. She may not always be smiling but she always was receptive. At _least_ receptive. She'd pull him to her or encourage him with her heels. She'd moan and tell him “yes, Joe yes!!”. But she wasn't.

_Something was wrong._

Even with that shock this dream continued! He kept thrusting, curled over her and her feet were behind him but her legs weren't taut to hold her up to him. Instead of pulling him in her thighs seemed to be pushing him back, trying to close but unable to because his body was right there. She tried to twist away, was trying to _escape him_. FUCK! This was a nightmare!! A nightmare where he was _raping_ Anderson! Why was he...

“Dredd _Stop_!” He grit his teeth, what the fuck! He had to stop! But he couldn't. He couldn't stop the roll of his hips anymore than he could slow them or let go of her hands. She cried out again, this time it echoed oddly like he heard it with his ears and then he heard it with something else. Something like just his mind. The dream like quality of the situation popped like a bad bulb making everything feel too real in an almost explosive way. This _nightmare_ was accentuated by another voice adding it's self to the horror. A male voice.

“Aw, hunnie... He can't stop. But don't worry... after he's worn ya down...”

Shit. Perp. Yet his reaction was to growl possessively over her. He snarled in the direction of the male voice who laughed at his reaction. Oh fuck. Oh this is... Unbelievably bad. He hadn't felt this sort of swell of panic since he, himself, had been a rookie. His body moved without his say so, an entirely foreign feeling for him. He was _always_ in control. _**Always**_.

The male took a step forward and his free arm wrapped protectively around her head and shoulder, his massive bulk covering every part of her save her strangely limp legs. He could notice now, the rage he usually kept a tight lid on washing around him. Hear himself snarling like a feral at the male who jumped back, still laughing. They would not touch her. It was key. There was nothing more key in his life than this fuck not touching her. Every bit of control he had was put into protecting her from this male. Even if he couldn't protect her from himself he could protect her from _others_.

A few more voices chuckled uncomfortably in the room but the male that had advanced a step took one back and made a joke to the others. “Man, touchy... who'da thunk huh?” Dredd's body pulled her in closer, his hips were rocking in short but slow thrusts and she sighed. Her breath over his neck as he tried to clear his vision had his hand loosening. As he tried to find a way to view the retreating threat, her breath got his blood pumping again. His brain was addled, drugged he guessed. Probably how they got him to sleep.

He scooted her against him, shifted them towards the wall while attention seemed shifted. Moved them towards a more defensible position. She quietly used her heels to pick her hips up. She understood what he was trying to do? He was able to let go of her hands and she grabbed the collar of his leathers immediately. Oh she did. It allowed him to fuck her into position next to the wall.

With the attention off of them though, the overwhelming need to protect her calmed. He was immediately back to fucking her with abandon. His open mouth slid up her throat because she threw her head back with a gasp. She let out a little noise, a cut off grunt of pleasure so quiet that he only heard it because his ear was next to her face while he chewed on her shoulder. “Dammit Dredd!” She whispered harshly, but there was less fear in her voice now.

A presence. That _Male_ came closer again and he snarled, lashing out with a swing of his arm. Noises of startlement about their current possitioning started to rattle around the room.

“Shit!”

“He comin too!?”

“Dose'im!”

“No way! Not even fifteen minutes man!”

“He ain't broke'er...”

“ _Dose him_!”

“Whadda we do!?”

“ _ **DOSE THE MOTHER FUCKER!**_ ”

Anderson panicked and that sense of this being a dream, that lack of reality seemed to wash him again as she panicked. She fought with him to reach behind his back... Seemingly towards her feet? He could feel her nails digging into the leather at his bicep, trying to leverage herself towards her feet then she lashed out towards his belt, specifically the tazer pocket, his almost never used secondary was all but useless in most if not all situation. Then she tried for her feet again with a little rage filled scream and cry of pain.

It was her.

She was causing the dream feeling... The fucking psychic under him was panicking and that was why that sense came suddenly back! This was real, very very real in spite of the weird ethereal feeling, the strange haze around the edges of things. There was really a group of perps standing around... watching him fuck Anderson. Watching **him** _ **,**_ _Judge_ _**Dredd**_!! Fuck another _judge_ into the floor! Where was his lawgiver!? If he could get his hand on his gun, any gun really, he could dispense some fucking justice.

He spotted his gun. It was within arms reach, and Anderson knew better than to reach out and grab it. Hell it looked like it'd just... Fallen out of his belt. He should reach out and grab it, his vision was still fuzzy edged, as he glared up at the perps having a fit on the other side of the room, at least one of which was trying to leave and his friends were stopping him. Apparently he was the one with the drugs...

“Just spray them both moron! No with the... the other shit!” The words were spewed at him but he was apparently too terrified to comply. Dredd had a finite amount of time, all he needed to do was grab his gun and shoot that one and their whole plan, whatever it was, seemed like it would halt on a dime. Shaking the perp started creeping towards the pair while the others shoved at him making him backpedal. He tried, tried to force his muscles into the correct position. He had _Justice_ to dispense. That wasn't working. “You'll get that bitch too, then we kin offum both! Easy! Just spray the shit!”

They would kill her.

His arm twitched towards his gun at that. The possessive rage that he growled with roared in his veins and he seized it. Yes. They were going to _kill_ her. Judge them! Keep _her_ safe. Oh that worked. It worked like nothing else had yet. She saw him lunge for his gun and... Oh the noise she made almost distracted him. It was a little excited yelp. Something like “yes” but it didn't matter, he was going to protect her. Keep her for himself.

“Assault judge. Guilty. Death.”

He growled the words out, like he couldn't string too many words together. Like he was a cave man. He was little better than that right now. The one with the drugs, whatever they were, panicked the rest of the way and bullrushed the door leaving a trail of screams and urine as he shoved his friends out of the way. They were all running to the door. Normally he could change settings and get all of them. They were running scared after all. But he could barely hold his gun for want to touch her. A shrill word from her had three of the seven perps fall dead. She went lax under him, lawgiver clattering to the floor as he wrapped himself back around her, protective but slightly reassuring. His hips were barely twitching against her now, if he could just...

She moved. “Dredd? Can you hear me?”

His fingers tightened around her. How could he _not_ hear her? Her lips were brushing his temple! He was _inside_ her. He could feel the heave of her chest under his, was watching her pulse throb in her throat. He was able to grunt at her in response, no words would form on his lips. She moved like she would get up and he couldn't help the sharp thrust that had her hands shoving against one shoulder and digging into the other, a scandalized vocalization that cut him to his core but didn't stop his body.

“Fuck.” She hissed, then repeated herself slightly frantic. Oh shit. The more frantic she got the worse this was, the tighter her gripped her and the faster he thrusted. He wanted to stop, needed to stop. This was _hurting her_. But it didn't work like last time. It gentled him and made him groan low in his chest but it didn't _stop_ him. Didn't give him _control_. A strangled apology slipped from her lips as one of his hands pinned her shoulder down. Her other hand came up to his face, he thought she was going to slap him.

He sort of wished she would have slapped him.

It was like the dream again. She was under him but he was naked, really truly naked. She was wearing a sundress with pale blue splotches that looked sort of like big blooming flowers. They were in much the same position but her feet were on the floor and one of his hands cupped a breast while the other had a hand on her ass, his face planted in her throat... and her arms wrapped around him. It was a calm moment, too peaceful for his mind. Like the eye of a storm because outside of her little bubble of influence there was a whipping sort of wind like a tornado.

He knew the storm. It was the rage and desire he kept behind the wall of his control. His control that was utterly decimated right now. She took a moment, a deep breath while she stroked his hair before lifting up on her elbows. He was almost shocked how he was able to just lean up. But they were in his mind. And... He was wearing his pants...

“Dredd... I need you to listen to me.” She insisted, her face clean, her hair a halo of soft fluff, her eyes sharp but not hurt. “You've been drugged...” She started but he still felt the need to fix her. To help her, his desire creeping up on him like a constrictor, pressing in on her bubble. Her eyes darted up and she gripped his hair at the back of his skull. “How were you able to shake it off? Even if it's just for a moment...” She offered and winced at the pressure his rage seemed to put on her.

“Had to protect you...” He was able to find his voice but even here, in his mind where he should have power, where he should have his control, it was difficult. His voice was clear of the possessive growl but he had trouble forming the words, like there was too much noise for him to speak comfortably over. He could feel his teeshirt across his chest. Something caught his eye, just outside of her sphere of influence. His helmet was behind her.

When his eyes flicked back to her she was in her leathers, her jacket split open and her teeshirt rumpled but dressed. “What were you protecting me from?” She questioned and he glared at her which, inexplicably made her grin.

“Perps. Were gonna kill you... take you away.” That was the truth of the matter. The taking her away. He leaned on his gloved knuckles, forcing himself up and off her. He was still barefoot but he had his gloves and his jacket was zipped up. She moved slowly to her feet, she was dressed, all the way dressed. But he didn't have his helmet... even as he felt his boots on his feet.

“And do you know... what's happening?” It was like her bubble was cracking, whips of his anger and desire tussled her hair, his eyes on that helmet back behind her. He wanted to just... rush it and grab his helmet. He needed his helmet. “Dredd... Do you know what you're doing _right now_?” Her voice had an edge to it. The leather chaffed against his skin like he'd forgotten to put on anything under the leather. He twisted his hands closed and the gloves creaked like they'd been left unoiled in the sun, like they were cracking and flaking away.

“I'm raping you.” Her eyes widened a fraction and he continued. “Have to stop. Need _control_.” That seemed to bolster her for a moment. Until he took that away from her, until he let reality remind her of how utterly ruined he was. “Control _I don't have_.” She rocked back and that little bubble around them was falling apart like a shack in a wind storm. She stumbled back and his hands were bare, the leather over his chest felt thin and brittle.

“My feet...” She snapped to and stepped forward. Her hand pressed against his chest and he gripped her arms as she spoke fervently, having to raise her voice over the roar of his untethered emotions around them. “My feet are tied behind your back. I can't reach them and the rope is too tight... Can you untie my feet?” She was desperate and the imaginary wind of his emotions was tossing her hair, whipping it into her face as she tried to look up at him...

Then reality crashed back in around him. The dim lights were harsh, the smell of their sweat and blood sharp in his nose under the smell of _her_. Every inch of his skin that touched her was too much and not enough, and the inevitable, if slow, rock of his hips was enough to make him almost sick. He pushed it down, the want to vomit. “Dredd...” Her voice was soft and the sickness fled to be replaced with a different illness. This insanity that had him biting his tongue to stop it from licking her. “The rope? Please...”

He grunted in response. His hand was happy to move to her thigh, to grip the smooth expanse of her leg. It was a bit harder to twist his hand around and find her feet behind his back. Her feet were cold. This was a real threat. Find a solution. Her feet are tied, there's a stretch of rope between the two ankles. He could feasibly cut that if he still has his knife... Can save her if he can get his knife. His hand moves reluctantly off her skin, feeling the prickle of day old shave stubble on her shin. His knife is right where it belongs in his boot.

“Still armed...”

It's shockingly easy to cup his hand around the blade and use the motion of his hips to saw through the thick rope. She's panting as he is sawing, holding onto him and that makes this easier. “Yea, they said... So you could... Carve me up...” Her feet fell to the floor like lead weights. Her head rolled back in sharp relief. But she moved like she was climbing out from under him and a snarl was on his lips before he could stop it. She struggled a bit, little whimpers and fearful wrinkles on her brow. Her eyes snapped up to him and he knew she understood.

He had her, she was safe from all others. Just not from _him_.

He tried every angle he could in his mind to wrest control of his own limbs. She was scared, she was hurt... _Violated and assaulted_. None of that helped with his control. No it just made him clutch her more covetously, wind himself around her more tightly again... he tried to mitigate this anyway he could, tried to keep his hips as still as possible, tried to clutch her gently. It wasn't working, the more worked up and upset she got, the worse he got. His head started whipping around, looking for anything to help. His lawgiver was right there... Maybe he could...

He slapped a hand over it. “Point... head. Aim...” He insisted, trying to tell her to end him, to stop him. She went still, eyes wide and somehow more fearful. She touched his face and squinted. He could feel that soft edged dream quality grip him then fade. She whimpered and tried again while he tried to lift the gun himself. She let out a whimper then yelped “no” before falling back and panting. He pulled his hand and managed to get his head down against the floor.

He felt her teeth against his neck and lost his grip on the gun. His arms snapped around her, hoplding himself up on his elbows as he wrapped her fully in his arms. She shifted her legs up around his hips and pressed her face into the side of his. He heard that double echo, hearing her voice in and out of his head.

“Dredd...” Darkness clothed her in his mind this time, an inky blackness that made her pale skin stand out in stark, horrifying contrast. “Dredd I will not... You almost had it before I tried... to get away. There is another way... there's always another way Dredd...” She insisted as he thrashed, trying to get closer to her. There was another him, more than one him. One with bare, wanting hands and the other with angry, harsh hands. One with a smile, the other with a grimace. Between her and his perspective, his helmet lay on the ground. As he tried to reach out and take it the smiling one gripped her, the grimacing one cracked his knuckles, looking challenging at him. She reached down and picked up the helmet, eyes never straying from him as the other hims surrounded her.

The grinning one... it grabbed her and pulled her back against his suddenly bare body. The other stood in his way as the first ravished her neck. She pressed the helmet out towards him, struggling away from the one behind her. He tried to push past the apparition but it punched him back. He slugged it and was able to reach out to where she was holding his helmet out to him. “Take your control!” She insisted but his hand moved through it like it was smoke.

“Give me my damn helmet!”

“I can't give it to you! You have to take it!” She was some kind of desperate, she was scared. He saw his own hands run over her. Too many hands on her, tearing the darkness away from her form and exposing her to the lecherous touches. He tried to free her, tried to get the other him off her but the scowling one just punched him away and then... to his horrified shock, began touching her too. She suddenly seemed to notice them and blinked.

“Dredd...” Her voice a horrible kind of calm as he tried to rip the two hims off of her. “Dredd what if I give in?” She asked and she threaded her fingers through one's hair. She gripped the back of his hand and he could feel his own skin on her... Feel her wrapped around him.

“No!” He insisted but she gave him a watery smile. “No, fight back, taze me, punch me! I can't keep doing this to you!” He demanded but she leaned her head against the one that had been grimacing. He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back to chew at her throat. He was something he couldn't really remember being. Desperate. He pulled out the stops, trying to talk sense into her while he could speak. “Cassandra!” She jolted at him using her first name, seemed almost silly for her to shy away from that kind of familiarity with him balls deep in her. “If I can grab my lawgiver...”

“You'll fall on me. I'm weak right now... I've been here for probably three hours... they beat me... Let me just... Give in. It'll be ok Joe.” He shouldn't have been shocked by that, but the sweet way she pet him or by the way that her head on his shoulder shifted into her tear stained face against his neck. By the sudden sensation of her on his cock, the root of his current problem.

He was almost happy when her hand came between them. Oh thank fuck, she was going to fight him. She was going to end him and save herself like he told her to... Then her fingers popped the snap at the top of his leathers. Deft fingers unzipped his coat. Her tiny little hands, capable but tiny, split the sides and the hot air moved over his sweat soaked teeshirt.

“You protected me. I'm safe.” She closed her eyes and took in a shuddering breath as she pressed her palm against his sweaty tee under his leathers. He throbbed inside of her, fuck her hands felt so damn good, cool on his overly hot skin even through his shirt. He needed to stop! She rocked her hips up into his and he couldn't help but gasp and pull her against him harder. He had to get control! Her other hand slid down his side to his bare ass and she grabbed at him.

Fuck!

She ran her nails up from his ass towards his back, trailing up his skin, her cool hand found his spine. He stung from her nails, a fevered reminder prickling along his skin. Her legs, weak and shaking, moved. One looped over his thigh while the other leaned against his hip. She threw her head back in a short gasp, leaving her tits arched up. The urge to taste her overwhelmed him while the new angle of her hips was just so much better.

Shit. Fuck, shit, dammit!

She was arching into him and he was close now. One hand clawed into his short hair while the other roamed whatever skin she could find. She gasped as he hit into her, slamming deep inside her at that delicious new angle. A shuddery little moan left her as he scraped teeth across her collar, nails diggin into his skin along his back. High and reedy she whined, her hips bucking harder into him and a growl slipped from him. It was every bit as much a noise of frustration that he shouldn't be doing this... as it was a pleased noise because he liked that sound.

One particularly well placed thrust had her nails digging in all the harder, short, sharp little things drawing up blood along his skin as her elbows met the floor. She stopped breathing for a moment while her body pressed up into his. A mocking, pleased tone echoed across his mind, Poor little Rookie... Coming undone under him, just like he had wanted. It was what all those dreams were about. He wanted her to want him... Wanted her to enjoy him as much as he wanted to enjoy her.

Her bones went liquid abruptly. Each thrust had her curling into him with a sound so perfect, her nails hooked into his flesh left a pain so encouraging... It only took him a handful of moments after so long in her, wrapped in her warmth, with her skin so close to his lips and no control to lean back on. No restraint to help him pull back because this was so utterly wrong.

No he just tipped, hissing at the sudden onslaught of pleasure that overwhelmed him. He panted, the smell of her almost overpowering the smell of the three dead in the room and the general filth of the building. He emptied into her with a grunt as she thrashed, her hips hitching up at his out of time and lazy. He was able to rest his head on her bare chest. His eyes closed as he shifted himself to keep his weight off of her. It took more effort than he liked to start assessing the situation. To open his eyes and make himself turn back into a judge.

Now that he could see clearly, now that he wasn't buried in her he could see all the damage across her skin. The blacken rib just peeking out from under her jacket. That needed tending. There were cuts, scrapes, but nothing horrible on her torso. He had to fight himself to pull back from her but he was able to, cumming seemed to have given him some control, how ever frail it seemed right now. As he looked down at her from his new vantage point, she lay limp and ruined below him.

Fuck.

“What's your status?” He tried to be normal as he pulled his pants up over his bare ass. Tried to have his control but seeing her lay there, eyes glazed, barely breathing was whipping him into a frenzy and an unearthly pace. When she blinked and looked up at him he couldn't even pretend he wasn't relieved, couldn't pretend that her staring blankly off like a broken toy any longer wouldn't have had him going on a rampage that ended with his inevitable death. “Anderson?” He tried for the usual, calm control but he didn't make it. There was a gruff lack of concern that he couldn't pull off. Because he did care. He hadn't shored up his shattered mental damn. He cared far too much.

“I'll... I'll be fine. We've got perps... Need to call the meat wagon...” He crouched down next to her. She didn't flinch when he put his hand to her exposed waist. Didn't move, just heaved a sigh, like this was just another day.

“Where's your leathers?” She shrugged and gestured limply before pulling her feet up to herself, sitting up. “I’ll call medical for you.” She snapped her head in a quick little motion, the denial was unexpected. Her eyes not touching him was not a shock. She reached out and picked up his helmet, he didn't know how he'd forgotten it. “Anderson you need medical.” She made a little noise as she stood, naked from her hips down, having untied the one rope that still clung to her ankles she pushed his helmet into his chest.

“So do you. We’ve got perps.” He took the helmet and put it on. She didn’t want to look at him. Of course she didn’t. He spent the last fifteen minutes defiling her, a good portion of that with spectators. He didn't want to live but she was right, they had perps. And he had to get her to saftey.

“Dispatch. Send Medical to Granite Arch. Anderson’s been assaulted.” There was a fierce little frown on her face as she snatched her damaged leathers off the floor, threading her legs through the material and kicking out the sock that got stuck in one of the legs. Her other sock was still on her foot, they must have striped her boots and pants, he was fairly certain he hadn't striped her.

“I’m staying. I need to finish up.” A glare rested on his chest, still unzipped from where she’d opened his armor. “I’m not going with Medical.” all those protective feelings, the possessive, ugly feelings tried to rage up out of the well they'd fallen back into. He had enough control that he didn't do any of the things those feelings demanded. Didn't grab her and shake her or knock her out so she couldn't argue. Didn't kiss her so she would just _stop_ , didn't fall to his knees and beg her to just go home with medical.

“Anderson, that’s an order.” Frigid eyes finally met his helmet. Maybe not the best time to pull rank but it was the least damning of his reactions.

“Respectfully? Eat a _dick_ Dredd.” He stepped forward, just one step, but it had him looming over her. The rip in her pants forced her to hold them up as her eyes followed his face, or what she could see of it. He knew there was fear behind those hard, angry eyes that glared up at him. He could see too much of her skin...

“Where’s your belt?” He had to get her covered, quickly. With that simmering feeling in his chest he needed her covered. His fingers twitched to reach out to her, to brush that hip bone with his knuckles. To rip those pants back off and take her again. She needed covered or he needed her away from him. Away from him was probably better, it was safer for her.

“Cut.” She answered hotly. She didn't seem happy with his change of subject. “Dredd you need medical just as much as I do… Don’t try and pull rank on me.” She glared back up at him and the want to touch her only grew. The want to grab both sides of her face and shove his tongue down her throat screamed across his mind.

“Anderson...” He hissed, his lip twitching with the want to taste her skin again. Her eyes widened, she took a half step back. They could both hear the sirens now. “Go with Medical.” He insisted, able to push all those wants down knowing she would be safe with medical. “They’re almost here. I’ll finish up.”

Her resolve faded, a little tremor ran up her body as she broke her eyes away from his face and helmet. He moved and she flinched. She was afraid of him. That was... Great. _Just fucking great._ Nothing to do about it at this point. Just finish this up and then turn himself in for his execution. At least he can get those bastards for her. He watched her with hungry eyes as she took a pair of zip ties and used them to fix her pants by looping them through the belt loops and cinching her pants closed. She was covered but he felt no less need to touch her.

“I’m ok you know.”

“We both know that’s not true Cass.” She shuddered as he used her name to prove a point. Though he'd expected her to flinch again, expected her to run to medical which was coming up the stairs behind them. Instead she just rested her hand on his elbow as she walked past him to medical. She looked up at him, her eyes zeroing in on his through his visor in a way that made him feel like he didn't have his helmet on at all. It was just an instant before her eyes shied away from him.

She had a limp as she walked. Probably a cracked or broken rib, she’d just been raped by a fellow judge. Yet she held her head high as she walked to medical, minimized her limp, ignored that deep black bruise under her arm. She seemed proud as she left with Medical.

He left too. He’d called in the meat wagon, he went to find the other bastards who’d escaped this room. His stride was the same as always, shoulders straight as always, jaw set, helmet in place. But there was something broken in his grimace, something wrong in the fists held at his sides. She'd left proud. He left silently shamed, seeking those he could punish. Not just for what they had done to her... but for what they took from _him_.

**Author's Note:**

> So...
> 
> Yea. 
> 
> I'll take suggestions... Serious face. even if the suggestion is "please don't hurt these characters any more, you're mean"


End file.
